


The Dinner Date

by Caedmon



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 09:51:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5661934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caedmon/pseuds/Caedmon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor wants to show Rose just what she means to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dinner Date

**Author's Note:**

> Based on an ABC tumblr prompt: "Leave as “Enamor Me” in my ask, and I will write a fluffy drabble characters trying to woo one another"
> 
> The BBC knows what she owns. <3  
> Kudos and comments are welcome and appreciated. <3  
> caedmonfaith.tumblr.com

This was not going well.

The Doctor had planned on making eggplant parmigiana with a chocolate soufflé for dessert, intending to impress Rose with his culinary skills. He’d meticulously selected music to play during dinner, scientifically proven to increase oxytocin - “ _the love hormone_ ”. He’d even had the TARDIS set up an elegant dinner table, and crystal goblets from Gallifrey waited to be filled with fine wine. He’d done extensive research on the topic of romantic Earth dinners, and was sure he had everything right.

Tonight was going to be _perfect_ , because tonight was the night he was finally going to tell Rose Tyler that he was in love with her. He was putting it all out there, so to speak. Everything.

But things weren’t going well, and he wasn’t sure why. He was a genius, and all one had to do to cook was follow directions. He could do that. Simple. Foolproof.

Well, apparently not.

He wasn’t entirely sure what eggplant parmigiana was supposed to look like, but anytime he looked in the oven all he saw was a hot mess. It didn’t smell right, either. It smelled… _chemical-y_. He’d never had eggplant parmigiana, so he had no idea what it was meant to smell like, but this wasn’t appealing to him. Maybe it would appeal to Rose.

The Doctor pulled the Italian dish out with a huff of frustration and put it in the warmer. Then he slid the soufflé in while he cut up a salad. Surely the soufflé wouldn’t be a bust. It was chocolate, and Rose loved chocolate. There was no way this could go wrong.

Once the salad was chopped, tossed and in a large bowl, the Doctor darted to his room to put on his best suit. It wouldn’t do to look shabby tonight. Everything needed to be perfect: eggplant parmigiana not withstanding.

Coming back into the kitchen a bit later, he opened the front of the oven to look at his creation. His beautiful chocolate confection. _Perfect. Sure to impress Rose._

Excited, the Doctor gave the oven door a push and it slammed closed. He paled.

Opening the door again, he groaned. His beautiful dessert had collapsed.

Rose wandered in as he was pulling the ruined soufflé out. She sniffed the air and curled her nose. “What’s that smell?”

The Doctor spun on his heel to face her. “Rose Tyler! I, ah, I made dinner.”

She wrinkled her nose some more, but gave him a smile. “Smells…different.”

“Sit!” he said in a loud voice, causing her to jump a little. “Sorry, just…here,” he held out his hand towards the table and put another on her shoulders to guide her there.

“Wine and candles? Is it my birthday?”

“Nope!” He popped the _p_. “Have a seat and I’ll be right here with the salad.”

Rose sat. The Doctor hastened to grab the salad and bring it back to her. He put some salad in her bowl, serving her, then ran back over to the warmer to grab the eggplant parmigiana. It didn’t smell any less chemical-y and he worried it would be inedible. He debated with himself about serving this to her. But what choice did he have?

When he came back to the table, Rose was pushing her salad around on her plate.

“What’s wrong, Rose?”

“Um, the salad has peppers and I’m allergic. I can’t eat it.”

The Doctor drooped, and so did the pan of food in his hand. It slipped and landed on the table, its weight knocking over the candelabra and Rose’s glass of wine. Red wine and tomato sauce splashed all over her lap and the candles landed on her napkin, igniting it at once.

_Because of course it did._

Rose squealed and the Doctor cursed, grabbing his own napkin and wiping Rose’s lap.

“Not to worry, Rose! I’ll get this cleaned up and we’ll still have a nice dinner-”

Rose’s hand closed around his wrist. “Doctor. Stop.”

He did as asked, and sank into the chair beside her, his shoulders sagging.

“I’m sorry, Rose.”

“What’s going on, Doctor?”

“I just …wanted this night to be special.”

“Why?”

He sighed heavily. “I wanted…I wanted to show you how much you mean to me and how…” He swallowed before he went on. “How I feel about you. This was supposed to be special. It was supposed to _mean_  something.”

Rose didn’t answer for a long while, and he didn’t look up at her. He was too full of self-recriminations to gaze on something as beautiful and perfect as her. Why would she even want to hear how a ridiculous old alien felt about her? She’d be kind, of course, because Rose was compassionate and sweet and wonderful, so maybe she’d let him down gently. Maybe, if he was really lucky, she wouldn’t lea-

“All you ever had to do was say, Doctor,” a quiet voice broke through his thoughts.

“What?” he asked stupidly.

“I don’t need anything fancy. I just…I just need you.”

Warmth sparked in his chest and spread in all directions until even his fingers and toes felt elated.

“Yeah?”

Rose nodded in answer and bit her lip.

But what did he do now? He _wanted_  to pull her out of that chair and so close to him that oxygen atoms wouldn’t fit between them. He wanted to declare his undying love, then snog her breathless. He wanted to-

“Doctor? Remember our first date?”

“We had chips,” he beamed.

“And I paid,” she agreed with a smile. “What would you think about us going to that same chippie and having chips like we did that day? I’ll even pay, to keep things authentic.”

His voice was low when he answered her. “Would that be special to you?”

She nodded, then her face broke into a wide smile and her tongue appeared at the corner of her mouth. “If you can actually _remember_  the place and get us there before they close.”

“In the year five billion?” He put his own tongue to the back of his teeth and chuckled in the back of his throat, the sound bubbling like the joy he was feeling.

“Go get changed, Rose Tyler. You have a date.”


End file.
